Lunar Shadows: Awaken

Kyran

Letting Valdr fully take over, I can relax and drift in the essence of our woven soul, not really thinking and just observing the outside world through Valdr’s senses. Valdr is the stronger being between us, it is him who gives me my power and authority as an Alpha, and in his wolf form his power is doubled. Only hearing me when I intend him to, I appreciate this shared form of existence that allows me to have my own personal mental privacy.

Just as when I am in physical control in the human form of our body—he can hear my every thought, feel every sensation my body encounters—I can do the same with him in physical control of our wolf form. I have the capability to take control over him in this state, as does he with me, if either of us allow it. I could force control as well, but out of respect for one another's autonomy, we mutually agree that unless absolutely necessary—in terms of our life at stake or anything related—we will not infringe upon our respected physical forms. Our thoughts are willingly shared openly. It helps us to better understand each other as well as form a solid bond, a companionship. If truly desired, we could completely block the other out, as if walling up our separate consciousness. We tried that once when we were just a pup, and it was a very lonely, cold feeling that neither of us want to experience again and have since lived cooperatively.

Throughout the night, I scarcely pay attention to his actions and feelings, giving him some privacy and myself some much-needed rest. I noticed a while back slight changes in scenery but paid no mind, feeling his unsatisfied restless energy coursing through our body. After some time, I’m not entirely sure how much, I remember seeing the bright shine of the moon and stars overhead through some sparse branches and a gentle peacefulness settle over us, allowing sleep to finally take hold.

While my eyes are closed, I imagine the smell of jasmine drifting across my nose and realize I still cannot get that woman off my mind, even with Valdr peacefully resting. With a scrape on my bare chest, my eyes snap open to the lightening sky overhead, belatedly registering that it’s daybreak and I am naked lying beneath a large blackthorn shrub. I scrub my hands across my face and as I see my arm covered in dirt, sweat, and a little bit of blood, I assume we had an unusually rigorous and extended run.

I look down only to come nose to beak with an abnormally large raven perched on my chest, its beady eyes staring directly into mine. My eyes widen, taking one swift look around as I realize where I am. I instantaneously shift into my wolf form, causing the bird to frantically flap around as I bolt as fast as I can in what I truly hope is the direction of home. Running hard on sore, tired muscles, I mentally cry out, Valdr! Wake the fuck up! with my paws pounding the earth and heart hammering just as hard and fast. I loudly try again, yelling, VALDR! and I feel him stir slightly as my only response.

What the fuck, Valdr! I grit my teeth, grunting as I attempt to keep track of the distance and timing it takes me to get home, not having any clue as to how we ended up there, of all fucking places. After what seems to be close to ten minutes, or approximately sixteen miles, I cross my borderline to my thousand-acre homelands at breakneck speed. I don’t even register the warrior greeting me until I’m halfway across the valleys and as I blur through the villages, I barely see any of my pack milling about.

I rapidly shift, crashing through the front door of my home and slam directly into Treyvar with Kyrre hot on his heels. Both have red puffy faces with bleary eyes and look exhausted. With my adrenaline finished running its course and my chest heaving, I collapse onto my hands and knees, weak from pure exhaustion and surrender completely into unconsciousness.

Selene

Exasperated, I growl to myself in frustration with my third failed attempt of grabbing this crucial ingredient for Asteria’s ridiculous ‘healthy’ dessert, as if that was even possible. I take a breath, place my hands on my hips and contemplate my choices. Either I walk away without the sugar substitute and face the wrath that is my cranky, sugar and carb deprived sister, or I figure out a way to procure this damned thing and get back home to finish baking before she kills me. Determined to reach this cursed artificial sweetener on the top shelf, I figure that climbing the shelving is my only option.

Wiping my sweaty hands on my leggings which are damp from my previous exertion of jumping and stretching like a hyped 80’s aerobics instructor, I accidentally rub my hands in flour that poofed on me in our kitchen earlier this afternoon. While preparing some decadent chocolate chunk cookies, I may have been a tad overzealous with mixing my dry ingredients to the beat of ‘Blue Monday’. Kitchen activities and dance music will forever be my happy place, I muse with a smile.

Clapping my hands together, I realize, This might actually help, and grin with resolution. I glance down the aisle and seeing how nobody is around to assist me, there aren’t any scolding eyes to chastise me either. Fuck it, I don’t have the time to chase down an employee anyway, I mumble in my mind. Gritting my teeth, I grip the edge of the top shelf and wedge my right foot between two sacks of flour on the second shelf and hoist myself up. Stretching my left arm up and over, my wiggling fingertips just barely graze the box I need and push it a tiny bit further back. Straining on my tiptoes with one leg kicked out for extra oomph, I grunt loudly with frustration when I fail, yet again inching the damned box completely out of reach.

I contemplate risking a jump to grab it, but instantly picture my accident, injury-prone, clumsy ass sprawled humiliatingly across the tile floor and think better of it. Sighing in resignation, I hang my head and mentally prepare myself to call Asteria and let her know she won’t be eating her cardboard hockey pucks tonight. This way she can rage about it without me there and the flames will settle before I get home. At least, I seriously hope so, I mutter to myself.

Hearing a scuffing noise, I open my eyes as I hear, “You look like you could use some help,” from an amused deep, husky voice.

With one hand still holding onto the shelf, I shove my messy hair off my sweaty forehead and respond, “Yes, I could,” on an exhale.

Glancing up, I am startled to see a tall, ruggedly handsome man, burly but with a kind and playful lopsided grin. Standing level with me, his piercing, wild amber eyes stun me and my mouth pops open into a little circle. Never before have I seen such mesmerizing eyes. I want to paint them, their color, their infinite depths that lure me in, I wonder as I gaze at this man. I can’t help but to gawk at him as my eyes drift over his features. He has shoulder length, unruly midnight black hair with a scruffy beard to match, a straight nose that slightly hooks right at the tip, a mischievous, sultry mouth and clear sun-kissed skin conveying his time spent outdoors. My eyes involuntarily drift downward, absorbing his broad shoulders stretching a black t-shirt across a thick chest and equally powerful, tattoo covered arms.

Rapidly blinking and feeling my cheeks flush, I snap my mouth shut with a click and force myself to look elsewhere. I notice he has a shopping cart chock full of…meat? Scrunching my brow, I glance back at him as he reaches up and grabs the elusive sweetener. What a peculiar man, I muse as my eyes follow his movements. When he carefully draws his arm downward, I catch a whiff of his cologne and feel compelled to inhale it as deeply as I can. Closing my eyes, I feel him the way sunshine warms a forest after a rainstorm; his scent is earthy and slightly musty but in a comforting, pleasant way. Wow, he smells incredible, I breathe the thought with a sigh. Feeling more than a bit flustered, I quickly open my eyes as he gently hands me the small box and before I can even attempt to voice my gratitude, he snags his cart and promptly disappears around the corner without a word.

Stumbling down off the shelf and grabbing my basket from the floor, I rush to get the last few items on my list, scuttling around the market how a little mouse scurries through a maze. Hurrying to the checkout lanes, I hope I can see that mysterious, captivating man again to give him my thanks. Searching around, I realize that he is gone, nowhere to be found, perhaps only being a figment of my imagination. Tch, as if I could conjure up something as wonderful as him, I scoff internally.

I frown, feeling oddly disappointed and choose a lane at random to wait my turn to checkout. I absentmindedly place my bag, sweetener, cacao powder, salt, and my personal favorite pint of ice cream on the conveyor belt and pay with exact cash. Thanking the cashier and bagger before trudging out of the market, I sling my canvas bag onto my left shoulder and head across the parking lot toward my sister’s powder blue Prius.

Opening the door, I place my shopping bag and purse on the passenger seat and slide in, gently closing the door with a click. Pressing the power button to start the car, I hear the little beep and sigh, wishing for my own vehicle again. Not that I have anything against her Eco-friendly car, but Asteria’s idea of practicality is a bit too blah for me. I prefer something with a bit more character.

Damn you, Bolvi, for wrecking not just my car, but my life, the intrusive thought pops into my mind as I stare at the wheel. My ex-boyfriend—if he could even be called that—was abusive, controlling, manipulative, and really just an all-around piece of shit. I didn’t spend much time with him, less than three months to be exact, but he still managed to dismantle so much of my life. He would belittle me and make me believe that I wasn’t worth anything to anyone if I wasn’t ‘the fun girl’. Going out with his friends, any chance he got he would shame me into drinking more alcohol than I was capable of handling, and I regretfully would always become embarrassingly drunk. I never fully remembered what happened during the nights we would go out, but I always felt like shit the next morning.

Bolvi became threatening, almost violently when I told him I did not want to spend my time with him anymore. Thankfully, he does not know where my home is, and I am still super grateful it isn’t near the city. It took quite an effort to get him to leave me alone, I had to change my phone number twice in two months. I even left the city, moved back in with my mother and sister to evade him. He saw me out with Ria and our friends once, about two weeks ago at what was our usual lounge in the city. In a complete psychotic rage, he stole my car and totaled it beyond repair. That was the last time I had seen him, and I truly hope to never set my eyes on that foul, pathetic excuse for a man again.

Asteria had offered to help me purchase a new vehicle, but I adamantly refused, feeling like this is something I need to heal and resolve on my own. She respected my choice and has kindly given me free use of her car in the meantime. Smiling to myself as I think of my sister, I make my way home to our cozy cottage in the woods to bake her ‘dessert’ as my way of showing my gratitude. She allowed me my autonomy and I, in turn, respectfully cater to her unique lifestyle, even if I find it sacrilegious.

Halfway home, the golden sun sinks below the horizon, igniting the sky with a new striking familiarity. Wistfully, I daydream about seeing that mysterious meat-cart guy once more.